


We Could Be Okay

by squireofgeekdom



Series: The Jacket Squad [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Fluff, Food, Gen, Touch Aversion, autistic character (implied), sensory issues - food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 07:44:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5531429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squireofgeekdom/pseuds/squireofgeekdom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She can’t remember the last time someone cared about what she liked to eat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Could Be Okay

**Author's Note:**

> You don't need to have read the previous fic in this series to follow this one. (but - no surprise - I do recommend reading it!)
> 
> Some of BB-8's voice is inspired by the coat thief, by Gretahs.

The base is loud.

The marketplace on Jakku was loud, but it was -

She takes a moment to find the right word. 

-predictable, perhaps? She’d had a routine, had years to learn the faces and patterns - it wasn’t as if they changed that often. 

And she hadn’t lived in the marketplace, she thinks with some bitterness, missing the long empty ride across the desert as she slides past two resistance pilots, their jackets brushing up against her shoulder. She flinches at the touch.

She doesn’t want to go back to her quarters - the quarters she shares with the Resistance pilot, Jess.

She just wants to go somewhere quiet.  
She keeps walking, picking the corridors that seem quietest - that is, until a crowd suddenly appears down the next corridor. She picks the closest door, yanks it open with the Force -

\- and promptly trips.

“Woah - hey -” Poe grabs her by the upper arms, steadies her. A round of familiar beeps and whistles tells her that she has tripped over BB-8.

[Sorry, Friend-Rey!]

“That’s alright -” she says, getting her footing back, quickly extricating her arms from Poe’s grasp.

“Sorry -” he starts, releasing his grip as soon as she pulls back. “Finn mentioned you don’t like to be touched.”

She shrugs. “It’s - alright,” she says, stepping back and scanning the room. “You were just- trying to help.” She reaches up and rubs her arms vigorously all the same, walking around the room.

“What brings you down here?”

“Just - looking for someplace quiet.” She says. BB-8 chirps.

[You are welcome here, Friend-Rey!]

“Yeah - I’m just cooking. We’re not too loud, are we BB?”

[Nope!] BB-8 beeps.

Rey keeps walking through, trying to pinpoint the source of the overpowering smell in the room.

“So - stick around. If you want, I mean.” He says, watching her walk.

“What is that?” she asks, pointing at the box that seems to be the source of the smell. 

“Pashi noodles!” When she looks blank, he adds, “Here, they should be done - try some. Oh, sorry -” He’d put out an hand to reach for her shoulder, but pulled it back before touching her. “Here, I just need to get to the -” He points at the box, and she steps back so that he can walk by without brushing against her.

“Thank you,” she says, a little belatedly. 

“Don’t mention it -” he says, prodding the surface of the dish with a ladle and extracting some of the crooked tendrils, swimming in a something viscous and orange. “So, what was food like on Jakku? No Pashi noodles, I take it.”

“Just - food. Portions.” She takes the proffered ladle into her hand with care, feeling out the temperature. 

He smiles. “You sound like Finn. You two have -”

Once she’s sure the food won’t burn her, she takes a cautious bite. “Ugh!”

“What? Is it -” 

She swallows the bite-full anyway - spitting it out would be wasting food. “It’s slimy.”

“Oh -” He leans back, letting out a huff of breath and smiling. “Yeah, I guess you could call Pachi noodles slimy. For a second there I thought I messed up the spices. Last month one of my wingmates switched the cinnamon and pepper - that was a disaster.” He reaches out to take back the ladle.

“I’ll eat it!” She says, defensively.

“Hey, alright -” He pulls his hand back. “No point eating something you don’t like, that’s all. Not like there’s a supply shortage. Anyway -” He adds with a grin. “I’ve got some pride left in my cooking skills. Can’t have you thinking I can only make slimy things, can I?” 

He’s smiling - it seems like it might be genuine. And Master Skywalker had let her eat without having to turn in work, though he hadn’t been as fussed if she liked it or not. Still - “I don’t have anything for you.” He looks confused. “I haven’t done any work.” She clarifies.

He still seems nonplussed. “Well, you’ve been training with Master Skywalker, haven’t you? They can’t exactly give you a deck shift on top of that.”

She shrugs. 

“Alright!” He claps his hands together. She doesn’t jump. “So what was your food - portions - what was that like?”

“Like -” She holds out her hands to indicate the size. “Hard. And crunchy. But I made some of it into a -” She makes her hands into a sphere. “bread? It was - fluffy?”

Poe bends over, reaches down into another box and pulls out a rough sphere, a little smaller than his hand. He cracks it open and shows it to her. “Like that?”

She leans over, peers at it. “Yes.” 

“Bread-puff. I usually have it with the noodles, but -” He hands the sphere to her. “Worth trying?”

She takes the sphere, tears off a piece - it feels a little heavier in her hands, but she takes a bite anyway. 

“This is - good!” She says, and Poe beams.

“Now we’re talking!” He leans forward, then steps back, keeping out of her space. “I know some pastries that have that texture - I’ll make them next.”

“Next?”

“Yeah!” He says, watching her befuddled face. “You didn’t think I was just going to feed you one thing, did you? We’re going to find every recipe in the galaxy you like. I can cook anything, you know.” He adds with a grin.

Every recipe in the galaxy sounds a little overwhelming, but - she can’t remember the last time someone cared about what she liked to eat. 

(There’d been precious few times someone cared about what she liked, period. Precious few times when someone cared about her.)

Poe doesn’t stop smiling. Impulsively, she reaches out and takes his hand, like Finn had taken hers. “Thank you, Poe.”

He looks down, surprised. “You’re welcome.” He says, still looking at her hand. “This is okay?”

She nods. He’s still watching her curiously. “I - don’t like being startled.” Or being held back. She thinks, but doesn’t say. Or strangers’ hands when they get too close. 

Though, she considers, maybe she can stop classifying Poe as a stranger, since he cared enough to ask. 

And BB-8 and Finn trust him, she’s reminded as BB-8 rolls towards them. So he can’t be that bad.

“It’s okay for you?” She asks.

“Yeah - yeah, it’s okay,” Poe says, giving her hand a light squeeze. She shakes her hand up and down - not to get rid of him, but so it’s like a handshake.

BB-8 whistles querulously, extending a claw-hand. [BB-8 is okay too?]

“Yes, of course,” Rey says with a smile, reaching down to take BB-8’s claw hand in hers. 

Maybe, she thinks, maybe they could all be okay.


End file.
